


cycles

by orta



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orta/pseuds/orta
Summary: He’s just a little over his head for her.  (2b9s collection of small fics)





	1. heights

It’s hardly something she would admit out loud, and she appears to put some effort into not being too obvious about it, but…

2B really seems to like being on earth. It’s not just about being fascinated with birds. She’d stumble over bushes and then stop and stare at the offending vegetation through her visor, as if completely baffled how it could trip her up despite terabytes’ worth of flawless balance combat data. She likes high places and would often go out to reconnaissance with him, even if it’s not her place as a battle model. He’d catch her atop ruined skyscrapers and beams, just looking quietly out at the view of the city scape. And it’s always quite a view.

9S likes it too, just sitting next to her during downtime, wondering what the city looked like back in the old world. Maybe humans would restore it once their missions are finally over and they purge the planet of machines. Maybe he could live with 2B and all the people in a place just like this. They could go and walk around the city in an age of peace, with everything full of life, rebuilt and clean instead of lonely and derelict and broken…

He tells her this sometimes. And he’s never exactly sure what to make of her expression when she looks at him, almost frowning.

“Wouldn’t it be nice?”

Maybe he’s been reading her wrong all this time. Maybe she actually only puts up with him because it’s her mission and she wouldn’t really care to hang out with him otherwise. Emotions are prohibited, but the thought stings.

And then she picks herself off the cracked concrete and tucks a bit of pale hair behind her ear. It’s because she’s not even used to wind, there’s hardly much moving air in the dead space of the artificial gravity in the bunker. Even wind is a novelty for her. All he knows is he’s transfixed and hopeless from even this delicate gesture and he would do anything for her.

“Maybe.”

It’s not a no, and that might as well be amazing resounding agreement, coming from her. She likes the idea, he’s sure of it. She likes earth. And he’s a little in love with how much she’s in love with the world, or maybe he’s just a little over his head for her.


	2. tests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly endgame spoilery. also this isn't strictly the same as it plays out in game canon.

“A sensory check?”

2B nods.  Okay, so he hadn’t really been doing maintenance on her for long.  But she doesn’t normally request a diagnostic sensory check like this.  It’s less important than visuals and sound, after all.

But if 2B wants to check it, he should try his best.

He taps her on the shoulder and waits for a response.  She doesn’t say anything.

“Ma’am?”

She gives a ‘hm?’ in response.

“Did you feel that?”

She shakes her head again.

This is a little odd, but maybe he hadn’t made significant enough contact.  He taps her arm this time, a touch that lasts slightly longer than necessary on the soft fabric of her dress.  He’s pretty glad her eyes are closed and her visuals are down while he’s running diagnostics.

“How about this?”

She shakes her head again.  He blinks.  “Really?”

She nods, and he thinks he could just barely see the corners of her mouth twitch a little, as if trying to hide a smile.   _ Yes, really _ .  Or  _ is _ she really being serious?  2B definitely acts stoic, but he knows she has a wry sense of humor sometimes.  Never mind that he barely knows her, but...

Anyway, maybe she’s messing with him for some reason.  Okay, time to really test her sensors.

He punches her in the shoulder.

Lightly.  He’s not a combat model.  If 2B put her strength into punching something, she could put craters into solid concrete.  9S, as a scanner model, would be surprised if he could punch a plank of wood in two.  And it would have to be a thin plank of wood.

Anyway, the point isn’t to hurt her.  He doubts he even can.  The point is— “You felt  _ that _ , right?”

“Felt what?” she asks.

“ _ Seriously _ ?” Okay,  _ now _ he’s starting to be concerned.  Tactile functionality isn’t strictly necessary for combat models to carry out their missions, but it would be inconvenient if 2B can’t feel and gauge the weight of her weapons or anything.  How far did this dysfunction go?  What if an enemy slips through her defenses and injures her?  If she couldn’t feel it, she’d be spared the pain.  But if it were a serious or even mortal wound, she wouldn’t even know.

“I don’t know what’s going on.  We might have to recalibrate you and troubleshoot.”

2B inclines her head towards him, peaceful and serene even while cut off from a significant function of her own body system.  Listening to him, trusting him.  It occurs to him, it hits him like electricity, just how vulnerable she is on the bed like this.  All her motor systems disabled, waiting for him to reactivate her.

2B is a combat model who could punch craters in concrete and metal and wield more than a dozen weapons flawlessly, kill machines and organics in countless different ways.  But here, docile and prone in front of him, hands delicately folded over her lap, eyes closed and unmasked, she’s like a doll.  Or a corpse.

He likes the way she looks, like this.  He’s not really sure if that’s a good thing.  And he can do almost anything he wants to her right now and she wouldn’t be able to feel it or know anything...

He knows for sure that’s not a good thing.

But he can’t help it, he wants more than to just touch her arm, her shoulder.

“2B, let me try one more thing, all right?”

She tilts her head in the direction of his voice, like a blind animal.  There’s a ghost of a smile, barely there, haunting the corner of her lips.  “Go ahead.”

He could do almost anything to her and she wouldn’t feel it.  He could kiss her, which is ridiculously tempting.  Or touch her elsewhere, which is even more so.  He could touch her cheek, her jaw, her pale neck, put his hands around her throat...

He can’t admit to himself how tempting that is.

But he’d never be able to get away with it, unlike her.

And it’s tempting, but it’s not what he wants.  What he wants is—

He takes her hand, tentatively, lightly lacing his fingers in with hers.  There are no calluses—this new body of hers is probably only hours old.  She probably hasn’t even held a weapon in her own two hands yet.

His face is heating up, which is entirely illogical and far too embarrassingly logical at the same time.  He’s an android, he shouldn’t be experiencing bodily responses like this, his pulse picking up, breath coming in fast, the warm feeling in his chest.  He’s not some human schoolboy with a crush.  He’s not human, anyway.

But sometimes he wonders if he’d still feel this way if he were.  And he’s pretty sure he knows the answer to that.

He lifts 2B’s hand to his face and presses his lips to her knuckles.

He wants to kiss her.  He does research into human culture sometimes—they’re fascinating, and to an extent androids barely had an individual culture of their own that hadn’t been influenced by humans.  But they hardly had anything like fairy tales.  Androids wouldn’t be creative enough to fantasize about waking a sleeping princess with a kiss.  But he wants to kiss her like that, maybe the next time around.

“Did you feel that?” his question is quieter, his breath warm and shy against the back of her hand.

2B smiles.

She opens her eyes, booting herself up rather than waiting for him to do so for her.  He freezes like a prey animal, too stunned to even drop her hand as she blinks up at him.  Her eyes are pale and colorless in the sterile light of the bunker, but he knows the exact color of the blue of her eyes by heart.

Her fingers twitch.  She turns her hand to touch his cheek.

“There’s something calming about your touch, 9S.”

He can’t even stammer excuses.  She’d been messing with him all along, after all.  She’d always been the one to get the better of him.

**Author's Note:**

> i really like these two, also i might take fic requests at catharp@tumblr! c:


End file.
